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1 


THE NOBLE CRIMINAL 


A Strange Tale 

Taken from the Notes eind Memoirs of Hadlock Jones 
By his friend, Dr. Lawrence L. Langdon 


BY 


ALBERT HOLLAND RHODES 


Author of 

“A BLACKMAILING STENOGRAPHER ” "THE KUKLUX BAND,” 
"A MORMAN VENDETTA,” 

"THE DESTROYING ANGELS ” etc. 


Illuitrated by ROY ATHERTON DAVIDSON 


Botton, I Beacon Street 
HOLLAND PUBUSHING COMPANY 
19 12 




Copyright, 1912 
By Albert Holland Rhode* 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Dim Ghosts of the Past 7 

II. The Triumph of Deduction .... 17 

III. Narrative of The Noble Criminal . 21 

IV. The Battle 38 

V. A Phantasy of the Twilight .... 44 

VI. Denouement 51 

ILLUSTRATIONS 

Waiting as the Quick Twilight Falls , . Frontispiece ^ 

PAGE 

Hadlock Jones ceases his Narrative .... 14^ 

Alone upon the Ocean 30 

An Angel of the Mists 46 





FOREWORD 


In the heart of the city of Puritans, high up in one of its 
prominent buildings overlooking historical ground, is the domi- 
cile of Hadlock Jones. 

Countless thousands of the inhabitants of this cultured city 
daily pass his door, with never a thought of the remarkable man 
who abides in their midst. Not so the criminal, for many a 
Raffles, in immaculate evening dress, owes his ultimate downfall 
to the indefatigable and untiring efforts of this modern thinking 
machine. Also the murderer, were his lips not sealed in death 
in expiation of his terrible crime, could point to the Sphinx-like 
face of this protector of the innocent with the finger of hate. 
With his boundless scope of wisdom in all things, his wierd in- 
sight of Humanity, his unerring method in his craft, as long as 
he lives he will represent the very personification of Justice, dis- 
tributing his favors with an impartial hand. 

Such is the hero of my story. 

In the portrayal of the sequence of events contained in this 
weird tale, the writer has endeavored to resurrect the science 
of deduction by observation and analysis, but in drawing thus 
largely on his imagination he has created a character so rarely 
encountred in these tamer times that the interest in the story 
centres more intensely in the adventures and fate of the princi- 
pal actor than in the lesson which the author intended to be- 
stow upon the reader. Nevertheless, the story will sjerve to 


illustrate that we all would do well to cultivate in our every day 
life this inherent mental capacity for observation, because as a 
people we possess Sight without Conception, Hearing without 
Understanding and Knowledge without Receptiveness. 

“The Noble Criminal” is one of a sequence of six stories, 
written at the instigation of one of the leading detectives of the 
East and a personal friend of the author. 

It was not intended for publication, but the favorable notice 
which the novelette received at the hands of the few who perused 
its pages was so unanimous that the writer has been prevailed 
upon to place the book into the hands of the reading public. 

In presenting it to you he asks your indulgence for its short- 
comings, requesting you to separate the wheat from the chaff 
and to assimilate whatever of good lies within its covers. 

Placing himself, therefore, within your power, he begs to 
remain. 

Most Sincerely Yours, 


Chapter I. 


DIM GHOSTS OF THE PAST 

DREARY, dismal November night. Outside, the 
wind moaned and muttered like a lost soul, and 
the storm pelted lustily against the windows of 
my friend Hadlock Jones' habitation, high up in 
the Strand Building overlooking King’s Chapel on 
Beacon Hill, as I sat cozily ensconced in his easy chair. 

He was busily engaged in clearing up the mass of papers on 
his desk, when suddenly he turned to me with the remark: 
“Here, my dear Langdon, are the documents in the strange 
case of ‘THE NOBLE CRIMINAL,’ which you will remem- 
ber we were looking for the other day, and here right on top of 
the pile is the cablegram which brought sorrow to my best 
friend and made an outcast and criminal of a fine old man.’’ 

As I took the papers from him with the message exposed to 
view I managed to read, despite the accumulation of dust, 
these lines: 

Bailey fatally injured in London — Died this 
morning — His diary containing full confession of 
tragedy at sea now in the hands of English author- 
ities,” 

Only once before had Hadlock Jones referred to this 



7 



The Noble Criminal 


particular case, and then he exhibited such signs of extreme 
grief at its recollection that I had carefully refrained from 
questioning him further in regard to so painful a subject. But 
now, as he had brought the matter up without my solicitation, 
I settled back more comfortably in my chair, prepared to hear 
one of the strangest, most pathetic and extraordinary incidents 
of my friend’s remarkable experience in criminal research. 

“You are wondering, Langdon,’’ he said, “why I am calling 
this particular case to your attention tonight. It is simply 
because the principal actor in the sad tale furnishes us with a 
perfect illustration of what I have always contended, that the 
spirit and characteristics of a Dr. Jeykle and Mr. Hyde are 
present in every one of us in greater or lesser proportions. 

“ I believe I have never spoken to you of my friend at College. 
Jack Thornton was the finest fellow I ever knew. You see we 
were both attending the University in the Winter of ’99, and 
it was quite by accident that I was thrown into association with 
him. A set of duplicate notes and exams were missing 
from Professor Shaler's desk, and the documents were found 
hidden in Jack’s room. It did look pretty dark for him one 
while, but believing him above such meanness I interested my- 
self in the case and succeeded in clearing his good name abso- 
lutely by placing the responsibility of the act upon the guilty 
students. From that time he was my most ardent friend and 
admirer, and when the long vacation came there was nothing 


8 


Dim Ghosts of the Past 

to it but I must spend it with him on his father’s plantation 
down in old Virginia. 

“Believe me, Langdon, I never visited a spot more congenial 
to my tastes, and it is my dream, if my life is spared, to spend 
its declining years in that sunny, hospitable land, where the 
flowers never cease to bloom. 

“I had hardly been a day on the place when I learned that 
my friend was a son only by adoption, the elder Thornton never 
having married. He was a man a trifle over sixty years of age, 
but in appearance scarcely fifty, with a herculean frame and 
the thews and sinews of a splendid athlete. Nobility of char- 
acter was impressed upon every feature, and he was universally 
beloved throughout the entire country side for his numerous 
acts of kindness and charity. In fact, a man of apparently 
great wealth and resources, for he was reputed to own the big- 
gest part of the country round about. What struck you as 
most remarkable, however, was the bond of affection existing 
between the two men. It could not have been stronger had 
the relationship been that of father and son. 

“For two solid weeks we hunted and fished together, and the 
elder man seemed to take great comfort in accompanying us 
on our trips, although I could not help observing that he was 
laboring under some great mental worry, and at times I even 
fancied I caught fleeting expressions of deep regret and horror 
on his face. 

“And now I come to an occurrence so startling and unex- 


9 


The Noble Criminal 


pected, and bringing with it such sorrow and calamity to my 
two kind hosts, that I have never ceased to deplore and regret 
the few thoughtless expressions I made one morning at break- 
fast, which brought to light the dim ghosts of the past. I could 
have cut my tongue out a minute later, but it was too late then. 

“It was early morning, scarcely daybreak, and we were 
lingering over our toast and coffee, preparatory to starting 
down the river for a three days* trip, when the Colonel, as he 
was invariably called, took occasion to thank me most heartily 
for my slight service to Jack at college. And more in the spirit 
of compliment than the desire to criticise me, he further re- 
marked: ‘But I find it very hard to believe, Mr. Jones, that a 
young man of your years, even though he be a paragon of wis- 
dom, could possibly accumulate enough knowledge to success- 
fully ipply your methods of deduction to every country and 
every condition of life.’ 

“Looking quickly up at the Colonel I laughingly rejoined, 
‘ I should be only too glad to demonstrate to you what my poor 
abilities are capable of doing in this direction. I only need the 
material to work on.’ 

“ ‘Very well,’ he said, ‘suppose I offer myself as an example.’ 

“ ‘Well, then, with your permission. Colonel, allow me to 
state that, although it is generally believed hereabouts you are 
an Englishman, as a matter of fact you are an American, born 
in the State of Virginia, and received your early training at the 
Annapolis Naval Academy.’ 


10 


Dim Ghosts of the Past 


“A strange look of pallor instantly overspread his face, but 
quickly recovering himself and looking me straight in the eye, 
he said: 

“ ‘You are perfectly right, my boy, but will you kindly tell 
me how you reached this conclusion? ’ 

“ ‘Why yes, certainly,* I answered, ‘though I fear you will 
find my methods of deduction are so absurdly simple that you 
will only laugh at me when I tell you. You must know, then, 
that I have made a study of the mannerisms and facial contours 
of the different national types, and there is absolutely nothing 
in your appearance to indicate that you were born of English 
parents. On the contrary, you have right now about your 
person at least six visible signs, any one of which is sufficient 
to prove that you could, if you would, claim your origin from 
one of the oldest families of Virginia. Breeding, sir, can be 
easily traced by the voice^ presence and gestures, especially that 
cultivation which the old Virginian squires and dames trans- 
mitted to their sons. Perhaps the strongest evidence of one’s 
birth and nationality, however, is to be found in the voice and 
accent. It is true you have an English accent, but please re- 
member that to the trained ear there is as much difference be- 
tween the accent which is acquired by environment and that which 
is bestowed by nature and birth, as there is between two distinct 
shades of the same color.’ 

“ ‘I, therefore, arrived at an exceedingly easy solution of 
this fact in your particular case, especially as what English ac- 


II 


The Noble Criminal 


cent you possess was obtained from your association with 
English speaking people in some spot outside of England, most 
probably Australia, and it required no very great concentration 
of my powers of observation to discern the marked difference 
between the real English accent and the one you have acquired . ' 

“ ‘And another thing, I noticed the other day, when you 
were talking to old black Mammy, that you were thoroughly 
conversant with happenings which must have occurred some 
thirty or forty years ago in this very neighborhood. Here you 
have another indication that in your youth this part of the 
country was thoroughly familiar to you.* 

“ ‘Now as to your boyhood’s training at the Annapolis Naval 
School. My process of reasoning this out was even more simple 
than my previous deductions. You have a very natural habit, 
unconscious to yourself I dare say, of at times carrying your 
arms very close to your sides, with the little finger of each hand 
touching the outer seam of the trouser leg, which betrays a training 
you could not have possibly received from any other source 
than Annapolis Naval Academy. Hence, I argued, you must 
have been a cadet when a youth at that military institution. ' 

“ ‘Well, well,' he exclaimed, a smile lighting up his strong 
features, ‘it is, as you say, exceedingly simple after your lucid 
explanation, but can you deduce anything further,’ he asked, 
looking at me fixedly. 

“ ‘Why, yes,’ I responded, ^you have spent at least four years 
of your life in New Zealand.* 


12 


Dim Ghosts of the Past 


“Again that death-like pallor came and went as a shadow 
over his face, but like the cultured gentleman he was he quickly 
recovered his composure as he replied: 

“ ‘Mr. Jones, I shall never again question your fitness for 
the vocation which you have adopted. You may take it from 
a man old enough to be your father that you have made no 
mistake in the selection of your life’s work. It is true, I did 
live for four years, yes almost five, in the interior of New Zea- 
land, but as you Yankees say, I am rather curious to know how 
you come at this deduction.’ 

“ ‘Simply enough. Colonel. You doubtless recall the day 
you pulled that little black pickaninny out of the trench down 
in the North Meadow. In doing so you threw back your sleeve 
to avoid a wetting, exposing to view a very beautiful design of 
tattooing on your forearm. The peculiar spirals and curves 
of that masterpiece of India ink could only have been executed 
by the native Maoris of New Zealand, and from the delicacy 
of the tattooing it was at once evident to me that you must 
have occupied a high rank while a member of the tribe. As 
such high rank is only bestowed by these savages after four 
years of service in their country, I, therefore, judged you must 
have spent at least four years of your life in New Zealand. ’ 

“ ‘So you see, my dear Colonel, how absurdly simple it all 
is, and I often think I make a great mistake in exposing my 
methods of deduction, for it deprives me of the credit I might 
otherwise claim for my achievement.’ 


13 


The Noble Criminal 


“ ‘Bravo, Hadlock, ’ cried my friend Jack, who up to this 
time had sat a silent listener to our conversation, ‘you know 
more now about the Governor than I do myself, but don 't stop 
yet, old pal, tell us some more, don^t you see how interested 
Dad is?» 

“So, filled with the desire to please my kind hosts and with 
no thought that my remarks would be in any way unwelcome, 
I continued. 

“ ‘Really, Jack, there is very little more to tell. I might 
add, however, that your father was an officer in the Confederate 
Navy during the late Civil War. Since then he has travelled 
a great deal, acquired immense wealth in the gold fields, has 
served under half a dozen different flags, one of which he desires 
to forget, was the survivor of an ocean tragedy which occurred 
in the early 6o’s and of late has been going about in the fear of 
some impending calamity.’ 

“I had hardly ceased speaking when the Colonel slowly arose 
from his chair and stood staring blankly at me in extreme 
amazement. And you may judge of our horror and surprise 
Langdon, when his massive frame tottered and towered for a 
moment above us and then came crashing headlong down among 
the breakfast dishes, where he lay to all appearances inert and 
lifeless. 

“We carried him to his chamber and worked over him for 
hours before he finally regained consciousness. As he lay there 
in bed, a crushed semblance of his former self, with such a wist- 


14 



As Hadlock Jones ceased his narrative he relit his old hriar 'pi'pe. 




Dim Ghosts of the Past 


ful, appealing look on his face, it cut me to the heart to think 
I had so unwittingly been the means of bringing him to such a 
pass. It finally got so bad that I could stand it no longer and 
I brought my visit to a sudden close, although Jack tried hard 
to persuade me to remain. 

‘‘My trip home to the North was an unnecessary one, how- 
ever, for I had hardly time to remove the dusty traces of the 
journey and get comfortably settled in my rooms when I re- 
ceived a telegram from my friend urging me to return at once. 

“Jack was waiting for me with the buckboard as the train 
pulled in at the station. He met me with a silent handclasp 
and we had driven fully a mile before he turned his grief stricken 
face toward me with the words: ‘My God, Hadlock, Dad has 
disappeared and something terrible has happened. After you 
left he appeared much better, was up and dressed the next 
morning and went about for several days with something of 
his old cheerful manner. Then one evening a cablegram came, 
and after reading it he went all to pieces, locked himself in his 
room and would allow none of us to come near him during the 
balance of the night. The next morning I arose much later 
than usual, and was startled to learn from the butler that the 
Governor had not made his appearance, although he had re- 
peatedly called him without receiving any response. Fearing 
the worst, we rushed upstairs, forced the lock in his door, and 
found, — nothing. The room was empty of his presence and 
the bed undisturbed. That was just forty-eight hours ago. 


15 


The Noble Criminal 


and I immediately sent for you. For Heaven’s sake, Hadlock, 
what does it all mean, and what has become of the Governor?’ 


i6 


Chapter II. 


THE TRUIMPH OF DEDUCTION 

ACKTwas heartbroken, and to tell the truth I suf- 
fered keenly myself, for the old gentleman had 
endeared himself to me by many little acts of 
kindness. During the remainder of the drive I 
kept constantly turning the whole unfortunate 
business over in my mind, and my companion tactfully 
refrained from interrupting my train of thoughts. We ar- 
rived all too soon at the plantation, and immediately made 
a thorough but fruitless search of the old man ’s chamber. As I 
stood in the centre of the room lost in thought, reviewing the 
full sequence of events leading up to this most sudden and 
mysterious disappearance, one question in particular insistently 
obtruded itself upon my mental vision. And the question was 
this: 

“Why should a fine Southern gentleman, past the prime of 
his manhood it is true, but still in the full possession of his splen- 
did health and strength, endowed with a receptive mind of noble 
attributes, commanding the respect and love of all who met 
him, the owner of one of the finest plantations in the South and 
immensely wealthy, why, I say, should such a man flee like a 
felon in the night without leaving even the smallest trace of 



17 



The Nohle Criminal 


his whereabouts? And what was the nature of the terrible 
thing which must have impelled him to take such a step? 

“As this question gathered form and substance in my mind 
the full significance of the whole affair suddenly dawned upon me 
and I knew I had solved the mystery. 

“My previous inferences as to the Colonel’s past life had 
been absolutely correct and the message he had received by 
cable had been the means adopted of imparting to him some 
information of a character serious enough to cause his abrupt 
disappearance. Being a Virginian by birth, but living for many 
years under an assumed English name, the truth of which the 
Colonel had already admitted to me, it was plainly evident that 
there must have been some act committed in his early life which he 
desired to conceal. Hence, his most natural impulse was to flee 
and escape facing the exposure and disgrace which must surely 
follow. 

“As to what this act was, and when it occurred, I was not at 
this time in a position to say with absolute certainty, but I 
had about made up my mind that the tragedy at sea in the early 
6o’s, to which occurrence I had called attention in my previous 
deductions, would throw considerable light upon the matter 
if the details of the crime could be unearthed and revived after so 
many years had elapsed. 

“Now from what I knew of the Colonel, he was a man of ex- 
ceedingly methodical habits, and I could not bring myself to 
believe that he would have taken this step without leaving be- 


i8 


The Triumph of Deduction 

hind him somewhere on the premises a full explanation of his 
strange behavior. 

“The cablegram itself would have furnished us with excellent 
material, but it was nowhere to be found, although we had 
made a thorough search, and for Jack’s sake I dreaded the 
publicity attached to applying for it at the Cable Company’s 
office. I felt positive it was on the place somewhere, however. 
Where then was it? Could my friend give me the clue? It 
was more than probable that he could. So turning to him I 
said, ‘Now, Jack, as a matter of fact did the Colonel at any 
time since your recent return from College make any remark 
to you, which at the time you thought somewhat strange, but 
gave little or no thought to later on? ’ 

“ ‘Yes, Yes,’ said Jack, after a moment’s thought, ‘now that 
you speak of it I remember distinctly that Dad and I were taking 
our regular after-dinner walk in the garden on the very evening 
of the day that you and I arrived here. This was always our 
custom when I was at home from College. We were standing 
in the centre of the narrow walk in front of the house when the 
Governor, placing both hands on my shoulders, said, 

“ ‘Dear lad, should anything happen to me I have left you 
well provided for, and a full explanation of everything will be 
found among my papers. ’ He then abruptly changed the sub- 
ject without giving me a chance to reply, and I thought no more 
about the matter until just now as you bring the occurrence 
back to my memory. ’ 


19 


The Noble Criminal 


“ ‘Ah! Jack/ I cried, ‘we need look no further, our search 
is ended. The papers and a full explanation may be found not 
far from the spot where you both stood that night in the gravel 
walk. And stay, I have it. Jack, I have it, the old Sun Dial 
which stands on the lawn just about six feet to the west of the 
edge of the walk, look there under its base. ’ 

“And true enough, Langdon, the papers you now hold in 
your hand were found in the spot indicated, just where the old 
Colonel had secreted them, before his mysterious disappearance, 
compactly sealed and addressed to my friend, Mr. Jack 
Thornton.” 


20 


Chapter III. 


THE NARRATIVE OF THE NOBLE CRIMINAL 


Hadlock Jones ceased his narrative he relit his 
old briar pipe, and the lines in his face resumed their 
customary inscrutable expression as he lounged 
deeper in his chair and became lost in his usual 
retrospective mood. 

And I, reverently untying the cords which bound the docu- 
ments together, read by the light of the glowing coals the re- 
markable story of the tragic end of the “NANCY LEE,” which 
occurred in the year 1863 off the coast of Virginia, and the full 
confession of a noble criminal if there ever was one. It was in 
the form of a letter, and read as follows: 



Thorncliffe Hall, Va., 

, May, 1899. 

My dear Son: 

I may never again call you by this endearing name, and as 
you read this, the black record of my life, that affection and 
esteem which you have always had for me must turn to bitter 
hatred, for know, my poor lad, I was your father’s murderer. 
Do not, therefore, seek to find me, for when this communication 
comes to your hand I shall have disappeared forever from your 
sight and become a homeless wanderer in some foreign land. 


21 



The Noble Criminal 


Indeed, my poor boy, I grew to regard you with a love 
almost as intense as that of a mother’s for her son, and it is not 
through fear of the Laws of my Country which I have broken, 
nor is it through any lack of courage to meet the dark disgrace 
which is closing in upon the last chapter of my life, that I desert 
you at this hour, but it is because I would suffer the torments 
of Hell itself rather than to look into your beloved face again 
after you have come into possession of the knowledge of the one 
dastardly act of my career. 

I am not an Englishman as you suppose, but a descendant of 
one of the oldest families of Virginia. As a youth, I received 
my early training at Annapolis, graduating with considerable 
credit, and it was while there I first met your father, the hand- 
some, debonair Jack Somers. We were inseparable friends, and 
once, while travelling through Southern Mexico, I was instru- 
mental in saving his life, being sorely wounded in turn and my 
own life despaired of for many weeks, through which he nursed 
me with the tenderest care. 

And then we met a woman. She was a beautiful Southern 
girl, afterwards your sainted Mother, and, well, she must have 
seen, with a woman’s quick intuition, that dark trait in my 
character which was afterwards to blight my whole life, for 
she preferred your father to me. I was never the same man 
after that, and my nature underwent a complete change. Bit- 
terness filled my heart and hatred of my one time friend became 
the consuming passion of my life. 


22 


The Narrative of the Noble Criminal 

Just at this time we were on the eve of the bloody conflict 
between the North and South, and the news of the fall of Fort 
Sumter had hardly reached our ears when I learned of the 
marriage of your father in Richmond. 

The Confederate Navy, being sadly in need of ships and men, 
I had no difficulty in being assigned to important service during 
the Blockade of the Southern ports. Animated by reckless 
daring, I gained considerable distinction during the first years 
of the war, and was rapidly promoted from time to time, until 
finally I was commissioned by President Jefferson Davis as an 
officer on the Confederate Crusier ALABAMA, under Captain 
Semmes. As fate would have it, your father, whom I had not 
seen since the beginning of the war, was also an officer on that 
vessel. Up to this time I had entered into my duties with a zest 
which had well nigh gained for me a complete forgetfulness of 
the past, but at the sight of the man whom I considered the de- 
stroyer of my happiness all the old bitterness and rancor flamed 
into new life again, and I swore to be revenged. 

The opportunity came almost without the seeking. We had 
been cruising in Northern waters for almost a week, when, one 
clear afternoon late in Autumn, the Lookout reported a black 
smudge on the horizon. Under the glass she appeared to be 
a steamer of beautiful proportions, with the Stars and Stripes 
flaunting proudly at her gaff end. We gave chase, and after a 
long and tedious pursuit finally overtook her just to the leeward 
of the Azores. A round shot from our heaviest gun fired across 


23 


The Noble Criminal 


her bows received no attention whatever, but evidently some- 
thing was wrong with her machinery, for she made little head- 
way and wallowed heavily in the trough of the sea. 

“Steamer ahoy!” our first officer cried, “strike your flag.” 

“Never,” was the reply of her brave Captain from the fore- 
castle. 

Semmes swore under his breath as he ordered four boatloads 
of heavily armed men to board the enemy. The battle was on. 
The steamer had no armament whatever, but her gallant Captain 
and his no less gallant crew fought to the bitter end with musket, 
pike and cutlass. It was a terrible slaughter, for outnumbered 
ten to one as the stranger was, her fearless crew mowed our men 
down in rows upon the quarterdeck before our boarders finally 
obtained a footing and nailed the still living body of the Captain 
of the Yankee trader with a pike to his own quarterdeck. 

Out of that fierce carnage only one of the enemy's crew survived^ 
a young sailor by the name of Bailey, 

The vessel proved to be the NANCY LEE with a cargo of 
specie, silks and jewelry aboard, but strange to say no papers 
could be found to indicate her destination. It was so evident, 
however, to Captain Semmes that she was a Yankee trader on 
her homeward voyage from the far East, that he immediately 
placed me in command of the prize with sufficient crew to take 
the steamer into port, and your father was appointed first 
officer under me. 

That night before the sun had set we left the ALABAMA far 


24 


The Narrative of the Noble Criminal 

astern, and ere darkness had closed in we lost sight of her com- 
pletely. It had been a calm day with a cloudless sky, and as 
the night wore on a gentle westerly breeze sprung up as I sat 
and pondered during the middle watch, and I must have fallen 
asleep. How long I slept I do not know, but it was I think 
about two o’clock when I awoke with a start to find Bailey, the 
young Yankee sailor, whom I have referred to before, peering 
down into my face through the darkness. 

“Silence, sir,” he hissed, “do not wink an eye until you have 
heard me through. We are rapidly nearing the shore and before 
the break of day we will have rounded Cape Hatteras and passed 
over the bar at the entrance to the bay. I have a partner 
aboard, who happens to be the boa’son’s mate of this vessel and 
an old pal of mine. We have stowed away in the Captain’s 
gig enough specie, gold and jewelry to buy a hundred such 
crafts as this one. The fuse is laid and already lighted in the 
after-hold and in half an hour this damned old hulk with her 
rebel crew will be blown to Kingdom-come. We need one more 
to man the gig. The boa’son’s mate has told me your story. 
Will you join us and get one-third of the swag, or go down to 
death with John Somers who stole your sweetheart, and all the 
rest of your rebel crew.” 

He must have been a very devil, for he could have selected 
no better words to serve his purpose, and he saw the sudden 
gleam in my eyes, for he stepped back with a sneering smile 


25 


The Noble Criminal 


upon his handsome, reckless face as he allowed me to regain 
my feet. 

Together we stole like phantoms through the night to where 
the long-boat swung at its davits, and Bailey and his pal had just 
laid hold of the tackles to lower her away when a dark form 
sprang upon me, pinning my arms to my sides. As a cadet at 
the Academy where feats of strength and daring were involved 
I had never been beaten, but now, struggle as I would, I could 
not release that vicelike embrace. I writhed and twisted and 
fought my way all over the deck to obtain the mastery, and as 
my opponent hissed between his teeth, ‘‘I know you now for a 
traitor,” I at once recognized your father’s voice. Summoning 
all my strength in one last supreme effort I succeeded in reach- 
ing the vessel’s side, bearing your father with me. It was then 
that my great strength failed me for a moment, and with your 
father’s hand at my throat I felt myself falling, falling, falling 
into the sea. With that instinctive lust to destroy possessed 
by man as well as beast I clasped him tightly around the body, 
my arms now being freed, and together we sank into fathoms 
of water. I was a powerful swimmer, but your father was not, 
and he was at my mercy. Oh! if I had only then obeyed the 
better instincts of my nature I could have saved his life again, 
just as I had before when he was dear to me, but overmastered 
by my blind, passionate hatred, I rained blow after blow down 
upon his unprotected face and allowed him to sink and perish. 

Utterly exhausted from that dreadful struggle and with every 


26 


The Narrative of the Noble Criminal 

joint and muscle of my body cracking with pain, I suddenly 
emerged from the sea ten fathoms to the lee-ward of the lights 
of the rapidly moving steamer. Mingling with the shrill piping 
of the boatswain’s call summoning the men to quarters I heard 
the cry, oft repeated, “man overboard.” Then, all in a moment, 
without warning, a dazzling pillar of light illumined the waters 
for miles around, accompanied by a roar louder than any thun- 
der I had ever heard. The terrific concussion drove my head 
under the water, and again I sank into the depths of the sea. 
This time when I regained the surface I was almost unconscious, 
but managed to keep afloat until my waning strength came back 
again, and as my wavering sight returned to me my eyes swept 
the surface of the sea, but the NANCY LEE with every soul 
aboard had disappeared forever, and there only remained to 
mark the spot where I had last seen her a solitary, flaming cask 
of some combustible material, which spluttered and flared in 
startling contrast to the inky blackness of the surrounding night. 

The silence of death was on the sea and not a cry reached my 
ears. I heard only the mournful soughing of the night breeze 
as it caressed the rippling surface of the ocean’s swell, while 
the outgoing current carried my exhausted body rapidly away. 

I managed to reach the cask, which the swash of the waves 
had rescued from the flames, and found that it would support 
my weight fairly well, being entirely watertight and the seams 
smeared with tar. 

I will not shock you further, my poor lad, with the details 


27 


The Noble Criminal 


of this most horrible crime committed on the high seas. But 
it is quite necessary for you to know that I lived for three nights 
and two days upon the cask, and when finally picked up and 
rescued by the brig “Miles Standish,” bound for New Zealand, 
my reason had entirely fled. It was many days before my 
health and strength returned to me, but after an uneventful 
voyage we finally arrived at our destination, where I immediately 
left the brig. 

Filled with remorse and the desire to escape from all my 
kind I finally made my way into the interior, where I took up 
my abode among the native tribesmen. I sought death in 
every form, but seemed to bear a charmed life, and the warriors 
grew to respect me for what they termed my great daring, little 
dreaming of the blackness of my sin and the depths of my 
despair. Of a truth, it was owing to this fact of my personal 
prowess and exceeding physical strength that my life was spared 
by these fierce savages. 

As time wore on and their confidence in me increased, their 
feelings lengthened to a warmer regard, and I came to be known 
among them by the name of Wandalost, which in the poetry 
of their language signified a wandering spirit. In my daily 
intercourse with them I discovered many noble traits of char- 
acter which a stranger to their customs would hardly expect to 
find, although it is true their manner of living was in many 
ways revolting, but they seemed to understand my reluctance 


28 


The Narrative of the Noble Criminal 

to participate in their orgies and tactfully refrained from im- 
posing the rites of their religion upon me. 

And it came to pass that I was given command of that por- 
tion of their army comprising five hundred picked warriors of 
the nation, men selected for their immense stature and fierce 
dispositions, who went into battle armed only with their tre- 
mendous broadaxes of native manufacture. 

The next few months that followed were uneventful ones, and 
nothing occurring to break the monotony of our savage life I 
made considerable progress in mastering their language, which 
I found in my constant association with them was far from 
difficult to learn. 

My position and rank in the tribe now being next to that of 
Tohonga, the King, the insignia of a chief was tattooed upon my 
forearm, and I came and went as my fancy led, no restraint 
whatever being placed upon my movements. 

Well do I remember one night, in particular. I had retired 
a little earlier than usual, being somewhat indisposed, and it 
seemed to me that I had been sleeping but a few minutes, al- 
though in reality it was the hour of midnight, when I awoke 
with a sudden start. An indescribably peculiar sensation of 
uneasiness crept over me as though there was somebody in the 
room looking at me fixedly. The pale soft beams of the au- 
tumnal moon diffused its mellow light into every recess of my 
habitation, and there, standing at the foot of my couch, his body 


29 


The Noble Criminal 


glistening like the folds of a sinuous serpent in the phosphor- 
escent light, was the figure of a young and stalwart warrior. 

‘‘Doth not my brother remember the Uhlgernarian whose life 
thou savest during the last drought, when the leaves died on the 
trees in the dark forests of the enemies of thy people,” he said. 

‘‘Yes,” I answered, “I remember thee now, for scarce two 
moons have passed since I met thee in thy northern mountains, 
where thou wast sore beset by thy numerous enemies. It was 
a goodly fight, and thou borest thyself like a warrior and a man, 
and it was for this that I fought shoulder to shoulder with thee. 
But why art thou here, and how long hast thou been watching 
over my slumbers?” 

“Long enough, my saviour, to mark that in thy sleep there 
is a certain restlessness, and that something presses most heavily 
upon thy mind. But I came not for this, I would that I had a 
word with thee.” 

“Say on, Uhlgernarian, my ears are ever open unto thee.” 

‘‘ Know then, O, Wandalost, that the seven tribes of my nation 
have combined and are massing their forces in the northern 
mountains. Even now the vanguard of an overwhelming army 
ten times greater than thine own in numbers is passing through 
the Ural Gap twenty miles to the north, and ere two twilights 
have gone thou and the people of thy adoption will perish.” 

“ But why hast thou, enemy to my people as thou art, come so 
far to warn me? And thou art weak from thy long journey, 
and even now canst scarcely stand from sheer weariness. Take 


30 





The silence of death was on the sea and not a cry reached my ears 





The Narrative of the Noble Criminal 

this draught, therefore, and stimulate thy waning strength,” 
and as I spoke I handed him a horn of the native wine. 

With a proud shake of his head, he replied, “For myself I 
have not a thought, ’tis but a passing weakness, but I love thee, 
Wandalost, and would give my life, yea even my honor, for 
thee. Sometimes when I look into thy face I see the mirage of 
another world, where all is good and beautiful, and then again I 
see thy troubled look and wonder what it is that makes the 
thunder clouds lower in thy eyes with the darkness of the 
underwold. Thou it is who hast told me of the dying Saviour’s 
sacrifice upon the Cross for me and mine, and I believe thee 
and would fain prepare myself to meet that Godly being. Take 
me then and do with me as thou wilt. Let me be near thee 
in the hour of battle, to guard and protect thee from all 
harm, for thou knowest thou hast told me that greater love 
hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friend.” 

“It is well,” I replied, “and I thank thee more than words can 
tell, but let my brother take my place upon the couch and find 
in sleep a sweet forgetfulness of his fatigue, whilst I go to seek 
an audience with the King.” 

Before the huge but graceful body of the savage had hardly 
touched the couch his eyes were closed in that perfectly natural 
slumber which comes only to him who lives the simple life of 
the forest and of nature. 

Late as the hour was I hesitated not a moment, our danger 
was too imminent, too near at hand for that, but making my 


31 


The Noble Criminal 


way through the silent streets unchallenged I passed up through 
the main entrance and into the Temple, where dwelt the King. 
Although aroused from his sleep at such an unseemly hour, the 
Tohonga received me with his usual royal embrace, and spoke 
never a word until he had heard me through, when he said : 

“Alas, Wandalost, I know not what to do in this my hour of 
need. Three times already have my enemies from the North 
descended upon my people, each time inflicting terrible losses. 
Not only have they slain my young men in battle, but they have 
carried away our wives and children into slavery and despoiled 
us of our cattle and our riches. I fear me this last descent with 
their overwhelming numbers will be the end, and I am minded 
to call my people together and seek safety with the great Wa^ 
tauka, who inhabits that impregnable country to the south of 
us. Ah me! I am getting old and silvered with age and have 
no son to sustain me in the last declining years of my life. What 
wouldst thou do, thou who hast been a more than son to me and 
a friend to my people?” 

“Then, O King, an thou leavest the decision to me, I would 
say it were better to fall fighting bravely to the last against 
overwhelming numbers, than to retreat now and perish on the 
spears of the pursuing Uhlgernarians. 

“Thus should the battle be fought. In the early morning 
dawn, just when the darkest hour is struggling with the first 
glint of the unrisen sun, I, with five hundred of thy picked war- 
riors, will commence the attack. We will strike the enemy in the 


32 


The Narrative of the Noble Criminal 

centre of his battle line, cutting it in two. Then, O King, let 
the right wing of thy army form in three lines, each line extend- 
ing itself to its greatest length, with two spear lengths between 
each warrior. Let the first line encircle the left wing of the 
Uhlgernarian and engage him in battle. Should the first line 
of thy people perish, as they undoubtedly will, let the second 
line make its charge upon the scattered formation of the foe, 
and follow up the attack with the third line of thy warriors fresh 
from their night’s repose. 

“Should we succeed in cutting our way through the enemy’s 
centre, I, with the remnant of my followers, will hew our way 
back to the left wing of thy army, which, O King, thou hast 
given over unto my command. We will then strike the dusky 
warriors from the north with the fresh half of our army frantic 
for the fray. 

“Then, Tohonga, the third line of the warriors under thy com- 
mand, reeking from that awful carnage, and flushed with vic- 
tory, will meet the retiring hordes from the north, and thus, 
placed between the two wings of our army we will cut, and 
thrust, and hew, and slay, and may the God of War be with us 
on this day.” 

“Ay! Wandalost, it is as my people say, thou hast, indeed^ 
gone mad. But it will be a good fight, a great fight, a bloody 
fray, and I smell it from afar. Mayhap we will win, but black 
doubt hovers ever near. Nathless, I hunger for the battle. 
On they come in countless thousands, and I see the golden 


33 


The Noble Criminal 


eagles of our axemen gleaming down our ranks of dusky brown. 
But this will be my last fight, I feel it here to my very soul, and 
I now name thee as my adopted son, and all my people shall 
hail thee as King when I am gone. Go, therefore, and make 
thy arrangements for the coming strife, and if thou fullest in 
the battle my soul will bear thee company.” 

‘‘It is enough, O King,” I said, “even though thou knowest 
it not, the curse of Cain is on my brow, yet would I fight for 
thee and thine. It is a goodly cause, and my sole prayer is 
that He who ruleth all things may spare my life that we may 
bring victory to thy banners, that we may crush these volup- 
tuous fiends who would degrade and drag thy wives and children 
to a fate worse than Hell itself. Farewell, Tohonga, rest thou 
in peace for the balance of the night, and when the morning 
breaks then will I confer with thee again.” 

The day dawned clear and bright, not a cloud to mar the azure 
of the sky, but during the night my plans and arrangements had 
been fulfilled. Runners had been sent out to the North to locate 
the exact position of the coming invaders. Warriors from the 
outskirts of the Kingdom were constantly arriving to swell the 
numbers of our fighting force, and there was nothing left for 
us to do but to await the coming of the foe. At sunset our 
scouts commenced to pour in with reports that the entire Uhl- 
gernarian army was massing among the foothills within a half 
day’s journey and that they intended to make their attack on 
the following day. So the ordeal was upon us sooner than I 


34 


The Narrative of the Noble Criminal 

had expected and our only hope lay in surprising the enemy, 
who despising our inferior numbers was camped in the distance, 
eating and drinking and making merry. Why not bring grim 
war to his very teeth tomorrow, just before daylight, and 
throttle the lion in his jungle while he lies asleep. It was our 
only chance, and a frail one at that, but I summoned the war- 
riors together just as the red Sun sank in the west. 

Surrounded by all of the chiefs of the tribe, the Tohonga and 
the young Uhlgernarian who had attached himtelf to my ser- 
vice, I thus addressed them. 

“Warriors of the Maori: 'Tis many moons ago since I came 
among ye, a sinful and despairing man. Ye took me by the 
hand and gave unto me the best that thy fruitful land could 
bestow, and for thy kindness to me in the dark hours of my 
remorse I would lay down my life for thee and thy people. 
Thou knowest we are sore beset, for numerous as are the leaves 
on the trees in thy forests, so are the numbers of thy foe, who 
only awaits the coming of the morning light to snatch thy wives 
and children from thy very midst and put thee to the torture 
and death. 

‘ ‘ Our only hope lies in surprising thy enemy whilst he sleeps 
in fancied security. Ten miles to the north of us he is feasting 
and making merry, and on the morrow he believes he will suck 
thy blood like the hungry tiger in his jungle as he pounces on 
the puling infant in its mother’s arms. But he makes a terrible 
mistake, for the battle is not to the strong alone, it is to the 


35 


The Nohle Criminal 


active and alert, the vigilant and the brave. Many of thee 
here may never survive this terrible slaughter, but victory shall 
sit on thy banners and thy names shall go down in the history 
of heroes. Thy cause is just, thy cause is noble. Ye are fight- 
ing for thy wives and for thy children, for thy lands and for thy 
cattle. Shall the proud and brutal warriors from the north 
take back with them thy wives and children as slaves, and leave 
thy bones to rot at the very gates of the desecrated tombs of thy 
fathers? No, never, for the gift of second sight is given to me 
at this hour, and I see thy slender ranks penetrating to the very 
midst of thy Uhlgernarian foe. Strike as thou hast never struck 
before, and just as sure as thy Sun God smiles on thee to-day, 
just so sure shalt ye prevail in tomorrow’s battle.” 

I had hardly ceased speaking when a great shout rent the air 
asunder in one vociferous acclamation, and I knew that one and 
all of them would follow me unto the end of time. 

Like ghoulish specters of the night we made our way toward 
the camp of the enemy. The white light of the moon, piercing 
through the lofty foliage of the silent forest, cast a strange, 
transparent glamor o’er the scene, and the weird soughing of 
the night wind brought a melancholy sentiment of its own to 
every heart. 

An hour before sunrise I awoke my five hundred axemen and 
told them of the plan of battle. The moon sank lower and 
lower as the minutes passed and finally disappeared, leaving us 
in chilly darkness. Then, a faint tinge of light in the East, so 


36 


The Narrative of the Noble Criminal 


faint as hardly to be perceptible, gave promise of the early 
morning dawn. 


37 


Chapter IV. 


THE BATTLE 



ST as the first primrose tints of the young Sun shot 
up through the valley we commenced our attack 
and the battle was on. They had hardly time to 
spring from their beds of boughs before we were upon 
them. Down they went in scores and hundreds be- 


fore our unexpected assault. Straight through their centre we 
plunged, leaving in our path dead and dying men, many of 
our own number among them. Back again we came, fighting like 
fiends in the gray dusk of the morning light, and ever as the din of 
battle rose and fell, so, too, rose and fell the broad axes of my 
picked warriors, cleaving their gory way through head-dress 
and shield, until we worked our way back again to the main 
body of our army. 

Meanwhile the Tohonga had sent his three lines of spearmen 
against the left wing of the Uhlgernarian. Twice had they 
been repulsed with terrible slaughter, but the third line held 
strong, and as I joined our main body with the remnant of my 
axemen, once more we charged down upon them with axe and 
spear. 

Faster and more furious grew the battle as the Uhlgernarian 
warriors, mad and desperate with rage, bore down upon us, 
piling our dead in heaps upon the ground. The Tohonga fell, 


38 




The Battle 


pierced to the heart with a spear, and I feared the fight was 
lost. Casting aside my shield of raw hide I grasped my ponder- 
ous axe in both hands and sprang into the thickest of the fray. 
On they rushed in a dense black body, but, fast as they came, 
one herculean savage, a head taller than all the rest of his fel- 
lows, was there before them, and as he aimed a terrific blow at 
me with his spear, the lithe and graceful body of the young 
Uhlgernarian, who had followed me throughout the battle, glided 
like a shadow of darkness between us, and the spear of the 
foeman, who was the mighty Kaimou himself, pierced through 
and through his throat as he fell and expired at my feet. Mad- 
dened by the sight of the death of my friend and my eyes suf- 
fused with blood I swung the heavy axe once, twice, thrice 
around my head, bringing it down with superhuman strength 
upon the shaven head of the leader of the Uhlgernarians. The 
keen broad edge of the massive weapon clove Kaimou to the 
chin. It was a mighty stroke, and so fierce was its impact that 
with all my remaining strength I could not withdraw it from 
his cloven skull. Every atom of my strength had been centered 
in that last wondrous stroke, and I stood for a brief breathing 
space defenceless and alone between the lines of the two armies, 
as a momentary hush held all within its grasp. And then, up 
through that mighty mass of dead and bleeding men the Uhlger- 
narians swarmed. On, on and still on they came, and as my 
tottering limbs refused to support me longer up sprang the 
mightiest warrior of them all and drove his big spear with such 


39 


The Noble Criminal 


force through my shoulder, just where the arm joins the body, 
that I was borne back into the very midst of my surviving fol- 
lowers. With one last effort, the spear still transfixed in my 
body, I managed to reach the side of my opponent, and, sum- 
moning all my strength in a supreme effort, my hands closed 
in one convulsive clutch around his brawny throat, his neck 
snapped like a dried faggot as he fell like a stricken deer on the 
heaps of slain. 

Then, down with a crash I fell to the ground. A deadening, 
sickening faintness steals over me as shouts of victory rend the 
air. Can it be that my glazing eyes see aright and that yonder 
dark and struggling masses are the scattered remnants of the 
foe? Father, I thank thee that I have lived to see this day, 
but oh, at what a fearful price have we purchased our triumph. 
The beautiful sunlight throws its golden mantle over mountain, 
plain and valley, the birds give voice to their sweet song, the 
sky above is refulgent with serene tranquilness, and everywhere 
the God of Peace has set his seal ; yes, everywhere, except within 
the cruel heart of evil-minded men. My heart is breaking, and 
yet the pain is sweet; the blood chokes me and I cannot see, 
for a darkening pall is settling over me. Is it the swish of 
tumbling waters that falls upon my ear, or does some pitying 
angel, with rustling wings, hover near to offer the Master’s 
divine forgiveness before I pass over the dark river to join the 
noble spirit of the young Uhlgernarian who gave his life for 
mine? 

4: :|c 


40 


The Battle 


LAS, I did not die, much as I would have liked, else 
this record of my life would never have been written 
for your sole benefit, my poor lad. Back from the 
brink of the grave, out of the vale of shadows they 
nursed me, and perhaps after all it is better so, for I 
can now see His hand extended to me in divine compassion, giv- 
ing me the opportunity to live and to suffer, to do good to my 
fellowmen, and to make some reparation at least in expiation of 
my terrible crime before the end. 

I was badly wounded, however, and they told me afterwards 
that only ten out of all my five hundred axemen who followed 
me into that bloody slaughter survived the terrible conflict, and 
that it was the last stand we made just before I fell that 
turned the tide of battle in our favor. All day long the axe 
and spear did their fell work on the conquered and the con- 
querer, the hills echoed and re-echoed with the shrill cries of 
victory and the wierd notes of revenge, and when the Sun sank 
in the west his last expiring rays looked down upon the scat- 
tered and retiring forces of the vanquished as they made their 
way silently back to their distant villages. 

It were better that the shroud of night throw its protecting 
veil over the scene than that the eye look upon the horrible 
feast of the winged denizens of the air as they supped their fill 
from the countless corpses of the slain. 

For days the plaintive wail of the dirge for the dead pene- 
trated to every part of the land, bringing a season of sadness 



41 



The Noble Criminal 


to our day of rejoicing. But everything has an end, and the 
melancholy pomp and ceremony attendant upon the entombing 
of the departed heroes was followed by a period of general ca- 
rousal throughout the Kingdom. A great feast was held in 
celebration of their recent victory and the people gathered from 
far and near to participate in the joyful carnival. Never before 
had there been such an immense gathering, and I was soon to 
learn that it was chiefly on my account that this concourse of 
people had been summoned from the remotest parts of the coun- 
try. They wished me to take the place of their Tohonga, and 
wed the youngest daughter of their former King. Although 
I protested vigorously against such an act they persisted in 
thrusting upon me this the highest mark of their approval, and 
I was proclaimed King amid the wildest enthusiasm. 

As I looked down from my throne that day upon the multi- 
tude my soul cried out in agony. Oh ! if I could only erase the one 
black act of the past, if I could bring back to life the victims of 
my treachery, I could say at this hour that I have not lived in 
vain, although I must live and suffer unto the end of time, but I 
will try to be brave even in the face of my doom, for does not 
the Angel of Hope extend her pitying sympathy unto all who 
seek it? It seems as though the experience of a thousand years 
was crowded into the brief space of my life, and yet it is good 
to say that I have lived and seen all these wonderful things, 'tis 
pleasant to think of the good deeds I have done even while I 
shudder at my sin, 'tis sweet to think of the undying friendship 


42 


/ 


The Battle 

of that young Uhlgernarian, surpassing even the love that a 
faithful woman accords to her lord, ’tis sweet to have heard the 
prattle of little children, and oh, how my heart yearns towards 
them, ’tis sweet to breath the pure air and feel the glow of 
health coursing through your throbbing veins, ’tis sweet to have 
heard the ring of steel in battle, to know that you have fought 
a good fight and have returned to those who befriended you in 
the hour of darkness a measure at least of gratitude. 

The advantage which my birth and knowledge gave me over 
these rude savages enabled me to improve somewhat their crude 
manner of living, and I took a measure of comfort in ministering 
to their wants when they were sick, and entered into their daily 
routine of life with an earnestness which I could not then ac- 
count for. In truth, I was content to spend the remainder of 
my days with these benighted beings, and in all probability 
would have done so had not an event transpired which placed 
it beyond my power to exercise any choice in the matter. 


43 


Chapter V. 


A PHANTASY OF THE TWILIGHT 

NE August afternoon of the fifth year of my adop- 
tion by the tribe I was sitting outside of the pah, 
or stockade, as the first shadows of evening began 
to creep down the sides of the mountains. While I 
watched the disappearing Sun crimsoning the distant 
peaks with the last beams of day I was thinking of other times, 
and, as I meditated, the twilight, which in those latitudes is 
exceedingly short, suddenly gave place to darkness and the 
night had set in. And then before my startled gaze I saw a 
sight I never thought to see again. Call it a phantasy of my 
disordered brain if you like, but I shall always believe that 
the graceful form and sweet face that appeared before me was 
that of your dear Mother. Once, and once only she spoke, 
and the pitying cadence of her voice well nigh overwhelmed 
me as she whispered low, — ‘‘ Hope on, hope on, God will not for- 
sake you always. Go and seek salvation among your own once 
more.” And even as she spoke she seemed to beckon me away, 
and the look of unutterable sorrow on her face was sad to see; 
then like unto a flash of light penetrating the darkness, quicker 
even than a flitting thought, there passed over her countenance 
a veil, leaving it clothed with an expression of sublime compas- 
sion, and as I gazed with aching heart upon her the figure slowly 



44 


A Phantasy of the Twilight 

melted away and vanished in the mists of the darkening night. 

Swayed by a power I could not resist I arose, and casting 
aside the mantle which enveloped me, made my way carefully 
through the village. As I passed the recumbent figure of the 
Maroa sentinel and glided into the depths of the forest his eyes 
were upon me, but he offered no obstacle to my progress, evi- 
dently mistaking my nude figure in the dusk for that of a brother 
warrior departing on a secret quest. 

The darkness favored my escape, and with unerring instinct 
I was able to choose the almost invisible paths which led to the 
coast. My life among the natives had made me a tireless runner, 
and although my course was tedious and difficult in the ex- 
treme I managed to make surprising progress through that land 
of volcanic lakes and geysers, avoiding those pliant tendrils, a 
contact with which would envelop a body with scores of folds 
like serpents. Night and day unceasingly I travelled, and at 
last one morning, wearied to the last degree in body, and driven 
almost to the verge of despair in mind, I finally reached the 
summit of Mount Watau, and there for the first time in almost 
five years I gazed upon the broad Pacific. Instilled with re- 
newed vigor and courage I rapidly descended the mountain and 
made my way to the coast. On the shore I found fresh evi- 
dences of a bloody affray having taken place between some na- 
tive warriors, their numerous corpses dotting the beach down 
to the water’s edge, where a large empty war canoe was floating 
helplessly in the surf. Without a moment’s hesitation I em- 


45 


The Noble Criminal 


barked in the cumbersome craft, and the wind and waves slowly 
carried the canoe from shore as I steered for the open sea. 

I can remember nothing more. I only know that in the midst 
of the gladness which possessed me at finding myself once more 
in my native element my sight failed me, I drowsed and became 
unconscious. When I awoke to a realization of my surround- 
ings I was lying in the cabin of a British merchantman alongside 
the dock at Sydney, New South Wales, and I was told that it 
was just a month and a day since I was taken from the canoe 
in mid ocean by kindly English hands. It was weeks before my 
mind grew strong enough to permit of my going about unat- 
tended, but youth and a strong physique could not be denied, 
and health and strength came back to me. 

I will not attempt to give you the story of my career from 
this on. It is sufficient to say that fortune favored me unceas- 
ingly. I made my way direct to the gold fields and there 
amassed an immense fortune. Everything I attempted proved 
successful, and I became under an assumed name an important 
business factor of that wonderfully rich and productive land of 
the antipodes. Nevertheless, that feeling of unrest, which I 
could never subdue, pursued me always, and I finally left my 
interests in competent hands and became once more an adven- 
turer. I served under various flags during the years that fol- 
lowed, offering my services where I believed the cause was 
righteous, thus taking an earnest part in some of the important 
battles of the recent wars. It was at the close of the Revolution 


46 



Once, and once only She spoke, and the pitying cadence of her voice 
well nigh overwhelmed me as She whispered low. 








A Phantasy of the Twilight 


in Chile, while I was lying in the hospital recovering from a 
reopening of the wound in my shoulder that the longing came 
upon me to see once more my dear old Virginia. And so, after 
my release from service in the Revolutionists’ Navy I returned 
to Australia, settled my affairs there forever and came to 
America. 

No familiar faces welcomed my return to these shores after 
so many years of exile. In fact, I desired none, as my parents 
had both departed this life long since and there was no one left 
I cared about, for was I not a man without a home and without 
a country, ostracised from every association of my boyhood 
days, and a traitor to my chosen cause. 

You know the rest — how I found you a worthy son of noble 
parents. How I shared, yea even bestowed upon you my entire 
fortune as a slight reparation for depriving you of a Father’s 
care. And I was well repaid, for you always accorded to me 
that respect and veneration I had no right to claim, but my 
sole prayer is that in the years of your life to come, and I hope 
they will be many, I may have at least a portion of your pity 
and forgiveness. All that I have is yours, and you will find 
among the papers accompanying this letter that I have pro- 
vided such documentary evidence as will vest in you all claim 
and right to my lands and estate. I have taken with me suf- 
ficient only to care for me in what few days remain of my earthly 
existence. 

I depart, as I came, a wanderer upon the face of the earth. 


47 


The Noble Criminal 


seeking, oh! forever seeking for the Light that never failed. A 
blackened, lost soul, likened only to that archangel cast out of 
heaven, roaming, everlastingly roaming the Universe, knowing 
that my salvation can only come when Sin has vanished, when 
Universal Peace and Good Will toward men encompass the 
World, when that Vital Spark which exists in every human shall 
be ignited and merged into the one Mighty Atom, and when 
there is no more death, no more suffering and no more unbelief. 

In the form of a pencil notation at the bottom of the last page 
appears the following: 

“The expected blow has at last fallen, my sin has found me 
out. After devoting the last twenty-five years of my life to 
Charity in the endeavor to make amends for the past, I am 
horrified to learn that the secret of my terrible crime is shared 
by another in the person of Bailey, the young Yankee sailor, 
who unknown to me all these years had survived that dreadful 
disaster at sea. The day before you returned from College with 
your young detective chum I unfortunately ran across the sailor 
in the tobacco mart at Danville, and he recognized me at once. 
I persuaded him to accept a large sum of money and leave the 
country forever, but not a peaceful moment has since been 
mine. To-day I am just in receipt of a cablegram from a 
paid detective whom I employed to shadow him across the sea, 
saying that Bailey had been fatally injured in London and that 


48 


A Phantasy of the Twilight 


a full confession of the tragic end of the NANCY LEE was ere 
now in the hands of English authorities, who would act at once. 

‘‘So out of the dead past comes the only other survivor of that 
treacherous crime, Bailey the Yankee sailor, pointing to me with 
the unerring finger of fate. 

'^Out of the present comes your young friend Hadlock JoneSj 
who first surprised my secret that morning at breakfast. With 
his boundless scope of wisdom in all things, his wierd insight into 
the frailties of humanity, his unerring methods in his craft, he 
has cast aside the dark mantle of the past and has told you in a few 
decisive words what I have taken many pages to unfold. 

“Forgive me Jack, and thou. Almighty God, have mercy on 
me. ” 


It was quite a late hour when I finished reading this the last 
message of the old Colonel to his adopted son, and the storm 
outside continued with unabated violence as I silently handed 
the papers back to Hadlock Jones. 

“There, Langdon,” he said, with a mournful smile, “you 
have a complete account of the saddest case that ever came 
under my observation. In fact, it was many a long day before 
Jack Thornton could greet me with his customary sunny smile, 
but time is a powerful healer of sorrow, and so it proved in 
Jack’s case. He finally married a wealthy Creole, as good 
as she was beautiful, and divides his time equally between his 
immense tobacco plantations in Virginia and the splendid es- 


49 


The Noble Criminal 


tate of his wife in Louisiana, at which latter spot I visit him once 
a year during the Mardi Gras festival. There, in the cool 
of the quiet tropical nights we sit us down on the broad Colonial 
veranda of the old plantation; and, in the hazy atmosphere of 
our after dinner smokes I know that Jack conjures up images 
of the past and takes a measure of sad comfort in the thought 
that the old Colonel has at last found that rest and peace which 
he strove for so many years to possess. 

“But as for me, I firmly believe that if the human eye could 
reach and penetrate so far, it would behold the figure of that 
repentant old man, clothed in a mantle of sackcloth and ashes, 
seated alone in the primitive forests of that land of savagery, 
waiting as the quick twilight falls to receive his Soul’s pardon 
before its passing. Who can tell?” 


50 


Chapter VI. 


DENOUEMENT 


T was the invariable custom of Hadlock Jones and 
myself to read our morning’s mail while at break- 
fast, and the morning after the evening we spent 
together in our rooms I found a letter awaiting me 
which called for my instant departure on a foreign 

mission. 

So, one bright wintry morning I bade a sorrowful farewell to 
him, after arranging for a successor to fill my place as Professor 
of Chemistry at the University. 

My trip abroad proved to be a more extended one than I had 
anticipated, and as the months passed by with never a word 
from home I found myself often wondering what my friend 
Hadlock Jones was doing and how he was getting along. 

Of course, it is a matter now of public knowledge, how he 
cleared up the notorious DeRuyder — ^Van Tassel mystery and 
returned the missing jewels to the young bride; also the tragedy 
at Dartmouth and the final conviction and incarceration of that 
monstrous woman, whose crime occupied the attention of the 
entire world for so long. 

But all these things I learned later on, for my own affairs 
occupied my constant attention during my absence from the 
States. 



51 



The Noble Criminal 


It was, therefore, only after three years of wandering through 
Europe, down the Mediterranean and overland into Asia that 
I found myself once more in dear old New England. 

I lost no time in getting to my quarters at the Strand. En- 
tering the old, familiar rooms noiselessly and unperceived I 
found Jones lounging in his favorite chair, an open letter before 
him, and an expression of extreme sorrow upon his face. 

“My dear friend,” he said, taking my hand in his long, 
nervous fingers with a grip that brought the tears to my eyes, 
“I am more than glad to see you, but you have come at a time 
when sadness fills my heart. This letter which you see before 
me contains information that has shocked me beyond measure. 
It refers to the strange case of ‘THE NOBLE CRIMINAL' 
and the disappearance of Colonel Thornton, the details of which 
you will recollect I brought to your attention just before your 
departure to foreign lands. It was quite by accident that the 
letter was found among the effects of a nurse who recently died 
in a London hospital, and was forwarded to me by my colleague, 
Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, thinking it might be of interest 
to me. 

“Alas, Langdon, we are none of us infallible but I think you 
will agree with me, after reading the letter, that it was beyond 
any human wisdom to have foretold this startling outcome to 
the strangest case that ever came under my observation. 

“Here it is, however, read it for yourself, and judge accord- 
ingly.” 


52 


Denouement 


And the letter as I read it on that summer day, with the 
gentle morning breeze ruffling its pages, was word for word, 
as follows: 


St. James Hospital, London, E. C., England. 

My name is George Judson Bailey, and I was born in a little 
New England village, high up among the green hills of Vermont. 

I am an old man now, lying helpless and terribly injured on a 
hospital cot in the East Side of London. Life is ebbing fast, 
and before tomorrow’s sunrise, so the good Sisters tell me, life’s 
voyage will be ended and my little bark safely anchored inside 
the still waters of the harbor bar. 

After all, I have no fear. I go willingly to that undiscovered 
country whence no traveler ever yet returned. As I look back 
upon the past there isn’t really very much to regret. I lived 
my life and tried to follow the teachings of my dear Mother. 
I fought for the Union in the latter days of the Civil War, and 
that grand old flag it just as sacred to me now as it was when I 
was with Farragut and we flaunted it in the face of the rebel 
gun-boats. 

But it is not my intention to relate the history of my life. I 
could not, even if I would, for time presses and I only wish to 
make my peace with God before I up anchor and sail away to 
the haven of rest. 

There is, nevertheless, one event in my life which must be 
told before I pass over the dark waters. 


53 


The Noble Criminal 


It was in the year 1863 that the thing happened, one cairn 
night in October. I remember it as clearly as though it were 
but yesterday — how I descended into the dark hold of the 
good ship NANCY LEE and applied the match to the sparking 
fuse which sent her to the bottom of the sea and every soul 
aboard to destruction. 

But I am getting ahead of my story, and in order that you, 
who read these lines, may know exactly what occurred, it is 
necessary that I explain my presence aboard that ill-fated craft 
on the night that she went down in Latitude 37° 50" and Longi- 
tude 75° 12^ and the events leading up to the tragedy. 

You see I have always been a follower of the sea, ever since 
as a lad of fourteen I left our little vine-covered cottage at home 
and took service with bluff old Captain Tarr, of the schooner 
MOLLIE STARK, sailing out of Gloucester. I have travelled 
the wide world over since and visited about every country in 
the old world as well as the new. My voyages, consequently, 
took me from home sometimes for years at a time. 

It was during one of these long absences that I finally ob- 
tained a mate’s berth on the ship NANCY LEE, bound for 
Philadelphia with a cargo of fine silks and other rare and costly 
fabrics from the far East. I never served under a finer officer 
than our captain, Phineas Barnes, and although he was a strict 
disciplinarian and exacting to a degree with his men, the crew 
all adored him. 

But as I was saying, it was late in the fall of the year, and we 


54 


Denouement 


were nearing the American shore. During the trip we had en- 
countered some very severe equinoctial gales, and were bowling 
along right merrily with the weather bright and clear, when the 
lookout suddenly sighted a formidable looking craft in the dis- 
tance. The glasses soon told us that she was the dreaded war 
vessel of the Confederates, the ALABAMA, under Captain 
Semmes, that renegade Englishman, rumors of whose depreda- 
tions upon our Northern commerce had reached us before we 
left the East. Now the NANCY LEE was the fastest craft 
afloat in all kinds of weather, but she carried no armament 
whatever. We were, therefore, in no condition to offer resist- 
ance and our only hope of escape lay in putting on full steam 
and steering for the open sea. All would have been well with 
us had not an accident happened to our machinery just as we 
hove in sight of the Azores. In our crippled condition the 
rebel privateersman rapidly overhauled us, firing a round shot 
across our bows as he came abreast of us to the leaward of the 
Islands. Then far across the calm sea came a hoarse summons 
from the Confederate to lower our colors. 

“Never while we live,” was the cry which went hurtling back 
into their very teeth. The smoke of the big gun had hardly 
cleared from the decks of the enemy when his long boats were 
lowered and the fight commenced. 

How shall I describe that which followed. The slaughter 
was terrible and our decks were slippery with blood from the 
bodies which covered them. It was no use, however, they out- 


55 


The Noble Criminal 


numbered us ten to one, besides being better armed, and our 
little band fought bitterly to the death, neither giving nor asking 
mercy. I saw my shipmates falling one by one under the charge 
of the impetuous enemy, and brave old Captain Barnes was the 
last to go, being pinned to his own deck by a pike as he fought 
by my side. Maddened by the sight of his long, white hair 
crimsoned with life’s fluid as he lay weltering on the deck, I 
brought the stock of my musket with what remaining strength 
I possessed down upon the head of the rebel leader as he stood 
gazing into the face of the transfixed corpse. And then I knew 
nothing more until I found myself lying flat on my back, bound 
hand and foot, looking straight into the rays of the midday Sun 
as he smiled down in mockery upon the savage scene. 

That night I lay a prisoner in a cabin of the NANCY LEE as 
she plowed her way toward the Virginian shore in charge of a 
prize crew. The gentle rythm of her machinery seemed like the 
heart beats of a wounded bird, and a feeling of undefined sad- 
ness possessed me as I tossed in restless agony upon my hard 
bed and saw the faces of my poor, departed messmates pass like 
a dream before me. I fell into a troubled sleep, only to be 
awakened by a stealthy hand severing the cords which bound 
me, and looked up into a pair of friendly eyes which peered 
down into mine. 

“Don’t you know me, Jud,” he whispered “I’m your old pal, 
Joe Wiley, who sailed with you on your first voyage out of 
Gloucester? Hist, and listen to what I say. I am not really 


56 


Denouement 


what I seem, a boatswain mate in the Confederate Navy, but 
a spy in the Secret Service of the Union. This is your only chance 
to escape a rebel prison. Let us go together. The Captain’s 
boat is waiting to be lowered away and I have filled her with 
all kinds of rich stuff from the cargo aboard, and plenty of gold 
specie, too. There’s enough powder and oil in the after hold 
to blow the ship out of the sea. I’ve already laid the train and 
fuse, and do you go down and set her off, while I make ready 
for our escape, but don’t be long, my bo’ for the fuse is short.” 

All was silent in the great ship, except the labored breathing 
of the wounded rebel officer in the cabin next to mine, and now 
and then his incoherent mutterings could be heard mingling 
with the swash of the sea as it lapped lightly against the sides 
of the swiftly moving vessel. 

As I groped my way down into the dark depths of the interior 
of the ship I fancied I could hear the whisperings of my lost 
shipmates calling to me and urging me on. There was poor 
Tom Cooper on my right. Silent Tom we called him, who never 
wasted a word; and stout-hearted Jack Morgan, who was 
everybody’s friend; and happy Harry Hapgood with sunny 
curly locks and roguish young face; and brave Captain Barnes, 
with eagle eye and gallant mien; and all the rest of those faith- 
ful New England hearts, men who perished for a cause. 

As I stumbled along through the pitchy darkness unseen 
hands seemed to be hovering in the air, guiding my uncertain 
footsteps through the night, and the ill-omened sound of pat- 


57 


The Noble Criminal 


taring feet told of countless vermin scurrying to their loathsome 
nests. 

And then governed by instinct or some other unseen power I 
stopped and lit the match. Its startling brilliancy instantly 
dispelled the Stygian gloom of that dank chamber, disclosing 
at my very feet the deadly fuse for which I was seeking. With 
trembling hands I dropped the match upon it and fled. 

Wiley was waiting for me as I reached the deck and together 
we made for the boat. We were just casting off when a huge 
figure sprang upon Wiley and bore him to the deck. I was 
upon the struggling forms in a moment and grasped the brawny 
throat of the young rebel officer in a death grip. We were both 
equally matched, but I soon found that I was fighting a madman. 
His wound had deprived him of reason and with superhuman 
force he dragged me struggling to the rail. For a moment we 
hung suspended over the side of he vessel, and then with a 
fiendish shriek upon his lips we both disappeared into the sea. 

The rest is soon told. A terrific, blinding flash, a deafening 
roar, and the NANCY LEE was no more. 

All alone upon the sea, no human eye to greet me, no human 
voice to offer consolation or cheer! In all that vast expanse of 
waters there was nothing within view, save a single burning 
cask which rapidly receded from my sight, borne upon the out- 
going current off to the open sea. 

The gentle undulating motion of the placid waters helped to 
keep my body afloat as I lay with arms outstretched on the 


58 


Denouement 


surface of the sea. The ocean was my element, and I gloried 
in my strength, but now the chill of fear crept slowly over me 
as I thought of my helplessenss, only a tiny dot on the limitless 
sea. 

Then up over the edge of the waters the morning sun rose 
clear and bright as my anxious eyes eagerly sought the horizon. 

Overhead an albatross swiftly winged his silent way home- 
ward to some dreary cleft in the rocks hundreds of miles dis- 
tant, and countless seagulls filled the air with their racuous cries 
as I struck out to the westward where the nearest land must 
lie. 

The ocean was shimmering in the slanting rays of the young 
sun. From time to time I threw myself bodily out of its depths 
in search of some familiar object upon which my eyes might 
rest; but all in vain, the same dreary level waste lay unbroken 
within my line of vision. 

My body grew numb and cold and it was with great difficulty 
that I could keep afloat. Slowly but surely my arms and legs 
stiffened, and the horrible conviction dawned upon me that my 
paralized limbs could support me no longer. I had exhausted 
every expedient of the trained swimmer and felt myself sinking. 
With a short but fervent prayer upon my lips I resigned myself 
to my fate as the words of that old song came to me at the 
momen t : 

“ Rocked in the cradle of the deep, 

I lay me down in peace to sleep." 


59 


The Noble Criminal 


Suddenly something struck me a stinging blow and I turned 
my head expecting to look into the distended jaws of a sea 
monster, but instead my heart gave a great bound. A heavy 
timber from some dismantled ship floated by my side. 

With a heart filled with awe and gratitude I crawled upon the 
plank, which I found large enough to easily support my weight. 
All that day the sun’s friendly rays shone down upon me, bring- 
ing life to my benumbed body, and when the night came I 
strapped myself with the remnants of my clothing fast to the 
friendly plank. The hours passed. The wind blew fresh from 
the West. The sea grew rougher and my clumsy craft labored 
heavily as the spray broke over me. Then as the moon’s disk 
rose majestically out of the sea, the silhouette of a full rigged 
ship became outlined against its cold pale radiance. I watched 
the black bulk grow larger and larger. With the wind dead 
ahead the vessel was making short stretches first to the north 
and then the south. On one of these tacks she bore down with- 
in a quarter of a mile of me. I threw myself into the waves and 
struck out so as to cut across the course the vessel was taking. 
I would have shouted, but I knew the wind would drown my 
voice at that distance. With vigorous strokes I was rapidly 
lessening the distance between us when once more the vessel 
changed her course. By a violent effort I half rose out of the 
water, uttering at the same time a loud cry peculiar to sailors . 
I was both seen and heard. The vessel put about once more 
and steered directly for me. I saw a boat lowered, but I had 


6o 


Denouement 


reckoned too much on my strength. The water closed over 
me and all was dark and grey. A convulsive movement again 
brought me to the surface, a hand seized me by the hair and I 
knew nothing more. I had fainted. 

When I again opened my eyes I found myself on the deck 
of a strange craft, wrapped in a woolen blanket and felt the wel- 
come trickling of rum down my throat from a gourd in the hands 
of a friendly sailor. All about were strange, foreign faces, 
looking down upon me with that feeling of pity which all men 
feel for a poor unfortunate, whose same fate may overtake 
them on the morrow. 

The crew of the vessel were mostly Portugese sailors returning 
to New Bedford from a whaling trip in the South Seas. They 
had been blown considerably out of their course by storms and 
were scudding under full sails to make up for lost time when they 
encountered and rescued me. From the captain down I was 
treated wtih the utmost kindness, and was soon able to take my 
place among the men. 

Fair weather and a steady breeze accompanied us all the way 
home, and when we dropped anchor in Buzzards Bay I bade 
my new found friends good-bye with a hearty hand shake all 
around. 

Thus ended one of the episodes of that four years’ bloody 
strife between brother and brother, father and son, many in- 
cidents of which will forever remain in obscurity for want of a 
surviving historian to tell the tale. At least, so I thought at 


6i 


The Noble Criminal 


the time, but I was mistaken, for the vast ocean, while its waters 
come and go, while its tides rise and fall, and the storm beats 
it into fury, can never really hide its secrets from mankind. 

Years have rolled by since those troublesome times, and now 
from his domain in the skies the Eagle of Liberty looks down 
upon a fair land of peace and plenty, upon a reunion of loyal 
American hearts, the blue and the grey. 

In the Spring of 1899 I was travelling through the Southern 
states, and the desire possessed me to visit the tobacco market 
at Danville, in the state of Virginia. As I stood an interested 
spectator watching the auctioneer disposing of the piles of to- 
bacco in their natural leaf to the various purchasers, my atten- 
tion was attracted to a very handsome, striking looking gentle- 
men in the garb of a planter, who was taking quite an active 
part in the proceedings. He seemed to be quite well known, 
for everybody, black as well as white, called him Colonel Thorn- 
ton. Upon inquiry I learned that he was reputed to be the 
wealthiest planter in all that section, and an Englishman by 
birth. There was something about him strangely familiar, and 
I watched him closely in the hope of detecting some peculiar 
trick of gesture or poise by which I might refresh rny memory. 
I was on the point of turning away, convinced that my imagina- 
tion had for once got the better of my judgment, when he 
suddenly stepped out from behind some tobacco which had 
intercepted my view, revealing a man of immense stature and 
symmetrical build. 


62 


Denouement 


I recognized him at once. There was no mistaking that her- 
culean frame or the heroic head and shoulders for any other 
than the young rebel officer who fought so savagely with Joe 
Wiley and myself on the deck of the NANCY LEE on that 
eventful night in ’63 when she went down. Time had wrought 
many changes in him, as it also had in me, but we recognized 
each other instantly. Although he took me warmly by the 
hand, there was a look of sickly fear on his face all the time 
that ill became his handsome, noble countenance. I was ex- 
ceedingly glad to see him, for I had often thought of the gallant 
young rebel whom I believed to be at the bottom of the sea. 
But here he was in the flesh looking at me with a beseeching 
look on his face that puzzled me greatly. He was very kind 
and courteous, but skilfully avoided any reference to the past, 
although why he should do so I could not understand, as the 
part he took that terrible night in defence of his shipmates and 
vessel was certainly greatly to his credit. 

At his request I spent the day in his company, and I must 
say I never met a more companionable man. I was sorry, 
indeed, when toward evening he informed me that he was obliged 
to leave on account of his son, whom he expected home from 
college on the following day. Before parting he slipped a sealed 
envelope into my hand, requesting that I refrain from opening 
it until the morrow. 

The next day, however, I left for the North, and never gave a 
further thought to the Colonel’s letter until I was two days out 


63 


The Nohle Criminal 


of New York aboard a transatlantic steamer on my way to 
England. With some little curiosity I opened it, and this is 
what I read: 

“Comrade Bailey: 

There has been something on my mind all day, 
and I trust you will not take offence if I unburden 
myself to you in this manner. From what I gath- 
ered during the time spent in your company I 
somehow got the idea that Fortune had not been 
any too kind to you in these latter days. You 
would, therefore, place me under the greatest of 
obligations by accepting the enclosed, which when 
compared with what I possess is but a drop in the 
bucket. 

The only provision I would attach to this gift is 
that you use it in visiting those places in the Old 
World which you stated to me today you desired 
so much to see once more. 

You see I have no pleasure in life now other than 
to do what little I can to increase the enjoyment of 
others, and I take a special interest in adding to the 
comfort of some lone wanderer of the seas, who 
like yourself, perhaps, has no kith or kin to cheer 
his declining years. 

Shipmate, my soul is dead. It died before that 


64 


Denouement 


lost Cause, which I should have served so faith- 
fully. had perished. In fact, I have never known a 
moment’s happiness since that terrible night when 
the NANCY LEE went down in mid-ocean, carry- 
ing with her the victims of my insane revenge. 

Mine is a hopeless existence. Do not, there- 
fore, refuse me this consolation, the only consola- 
tion left a traitor to his cause.” 

The letter fluttered to the floor from my nerveless hand and I 
confess I was staggered for a moment. My thoughts travelled 
back to a night some thirty-six years ago. I lived over again 
the struggle on the deck of the NANCY LEE with the young 
rebel leader. I can see him now, fighting like a madman against 
the two of us. 

And then the scales dropped from my eyes and I saw in my 
mind’s eye the picture, with all its vivid details, of a captured 
United States vessel in charge of a Rebel prize crew: two cabins 
side by side, one containing a young Yankee sailor as prisoner 
of war; in the other lay a wounded rebel officer, delirious with 
pain, who with mind deranged by fever overhears our plan to 
destroy the vessel with all on board. Can you imagine the va- 
garies of a mind weakened by suffering and sorrow as he stag- 
gered up to the deck. How gallantly he fought for his ship- 
mates and the ship. And then to think of the mental agony 
of that noble mind in all the long years that followed, unjustly 


65 


The Noble Criminal 


accusing itself of a dastardly act never committed. I wept at 
the pathos of it all, I, who had never shed a tear in my rough 
life. 

And then the thought that I could end it all with a few words 
and bring peace to his troubled soul thrilled me through and 
through. I could hardly wait to reach my destination and pen 
the lines which would remove the burden from his great heart. 

But alas for our good intentions, they often times miscarry. 
I had hardly got comfortably installed at the Seafarers Inn in 
London when in crossing one of the busy thoroughfares I was 
knocked down and terribly injured by a run-away cab. They 
brought me here to this place. Every comfort and assistance 
that their kindly English hearts could devise has been cheerfully 
given to the poor mariner of the seas, but all in vain. They 
have promised to carry me back to the Green Hills of my na- 
tivity and place me in the village churchyard, where, at even- 
tide, the long shadows fall. 

And so this is the end of it all, and I lay me down in peace and 
contentment at the call of the great Angel of Death. Many 
times He has brushed me by without calling, and many a ship- 
mate has He snatched from my side, but at His touch all fear 
departs, because I know that for me no more there’ll be the 
storms, the strifes, the haunting fears of life. The sunset of my 
life has passed, and I see the Beacon of Eternal Hope shining 
out clear and bright like that guiding star in the zenith, which 
to me once seemed so far above and is so near tonight. 


66 


Denouement 


My hand tires and it is with great difficulty that I can write. 
The world grows dark and cold, the light departs; and now I 
see bursting through darkening mists the radiant faces of long 
lost friends who have gone before, and one, distinct from all 
the rest, with spotless robe and glistening wings, her dear face 
all alight with love, the purest, sweetest, grandest of them all, 
my Mother y stretches out her welcoming arms in silent rapture 
to her boy. 


Finale. 



NOTE. — In 1883 a party of three English adventurers penetrated into the 
heart of Maori land. They tell of a splendid race of dark men ruled by a young 
white chief. 

At the entrance to the main gate of their Temple is an immense statue hewn 
out of an unblemished solid block of sacred stone, a oeautiful bluish white in color. 
The statue represents Wandalost, their warrior king that was, his terrible broad 
axe in hand, smiting their enemy Kaimou, the famously wondrous stroke which 
wrought disastrous defeat to their ancient enemy and changed the destiny of a 
nation. 

Standing at the very gates of the Sun Temple, wherein they worship their 
Sun God, the statue has all the appearance of a living, breathing warrior hero, 
guarding the sacred premises against unholy intruders. 

The prophecy is that not until some sacriligious hand shall with one mighty 
stroke, equal only to that of the wondrous Wandalost, shiver the statue into a thou- 
sand pieces, will their greatness and power as a nation perish. 

NOTE. — TOHONGA, a name handed down through successive generations 
of the Royal blood, applied only to Kings and Rulers of the Maoris. It was proph- 
ecied that only when the reigning king died without male issue would a stranger 
king appear and rule Maori land. 

NOTE. — The UHLGERNARIANS were a brave and warlike people, noted 
for their extreme cruelty and brutality. They inhabited the northern mountain 
fastnesses and were impregnable from the attacks of their enemies. Periodically 
they descended and devastated the land of their old enemies, the Maoris, and de- 
filed their women and children. 

The disastrous defeat inflicted upon them by the Maoris under Wandalost 
was so complete that the survivors returned to their mountain villages and never 
again were !^own to raise their voices at the Council Fire in favor of War. 



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